Tales From The Other Railway
by TARDIS9
Summary: Based on the original parodies by ProfessorVengeance of Sodor Island Forums. Diesel and Spamcan fall for an especially attractive coach, but attempts to make her a member of their railway blow up in their faces! Meanwhile, Derek encounters trouble with passenger trains and banking duties. Warning: Some readers may find the humour offensive - read at your own discretion/risk.


Two tales of stupidity and unreliability starring the much-hated characters, Diesel the Rank Engine and Associates, based on the Railway Series by the Reverend W. Awdry, Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends by Britt Allcroft, and the original Tales From The Other Railway series by ProfessorVengeance on Sodor Island Forums. If you wish to read the old parodies, I recommend you visit the official website at /talesfromtheotherrailway/, or, to read the complete collection, join Sodor Island Forums on ProBoards.

 _Dear Friends._

 _I heard a lot of talk about the Other Railway - mostly from an old tramp covered in - you know - and he said a lot of bad things about it. Not believing a single thing about it, I decided to visit, so I could prove him wrong and laugh in his face. Unfortunately, he was right, as I saw. I now understand why the previous author mysteriously disappeared. From dawn till dusk I was humiliated and threatened, by drivers who tricked me into drinking paint water (the bastards told me it was a Coke!), and constantly gave me the finger, and engines who lost their trains with me on board them on a hill. I had to climb into the Brakefather and put his brakes on myself, when Diesel asked some fuel tankers to run away from him at Red Tape Hill, and his driver bribed the guard not to get on the train! The worst of it all was that the controller was that same tramp, who proved he was just about as good as running a railway as a rock is at standing still while in an avalanche! Hopefully, if I can get the authorities to take action, this may be the last anyone ever heard of the Other Railway, as far as this writer is concerned!_

 _The NEW Author._

 _P.S. This is a non-profit fan production. I do not own the Other Railway (although I'd probably manage a better job of it than the Thin Git), and will continue to deny the whereabouts of the real author. The suspicious banging noise coming from the cupboard is just the plumbing._

 _ **Diesel, Spamcan and Young Sexybuffers:**_

Based on _Thomas, Percy And Old Slowcoach_ by Britt Allcroft and David Mitton **.**

Diesel, Spamcan and Bowler were slouching about in the bitter cold evening, freezing their buffers off. The Thin Git had forgotten to pay the meter - again. 'That man's a heartless old miser without any sense of a brain' moaned Spamcan.  
'For once, you're right' said Diesel. Spamcan and Bowler gasped when they heard what Diesel said. 'I am serious, you dunderheads!' he snapped. 'At least the others have been given jobs, so they'll be on the move - except for Derek. His bad engine will probably warm him up when he overheats - again. Anyway, I would give my soul to anyone who would let me get moving anywhere … especially past the works!' (He had heard Pip and Emma were having their undercarriages checked, and wanted to watch the workmen do so. The sick minded troglodyte!)

'Pah!' snorted Bowler. 'It's that main line that goes in and out of the Big Fat Station that blows the cobwebs away for me. It is the only place to be!' And he rumbled away to collect his coaches … and complained that the front coach's couplings were too rusty. It took the workmen a full two hours to find a coach suitable enough for his Royal Bowlerness to even remotely consider hauling - but hey, that's what you get when you mix hydrochondriac diesels with drunk railway workers who work on the Other Railway!

Diesel and Spamcan had to take some wood and blu-tack to the carriage workshops. Anything for cheap coaches, considering how much of a spendthrift Sir Wyatt Fronts isn't. Anyway, it was there that they saw the sleekest-looking bullet train ever devised by man. 'And just what are you doing here?' Diesel demanded. The bullet train looked over at him, seductively. Diesel immediately began to feel like he wanted to 'be alone' with this train.  
'They call me Young Sexybuffers, and tell me I'm the sexiest-looking vehicle in the world. Now people can't help feeling attracted to me!'  
'But how in buggerry can people be attracted to engines? We don't even have the same parts! We're only male or female because of differences in the face and the chassis!' Diesel exclaimed. This engine certainly was sexy, but there was something considerably off-putting about the brain power this train seemed to have in matters such as this.  
'Oh, wouldn't you like to know?' giggled Young Sexybuffers.  
The manager came up. 'Come on, that engine's taken. She'll be shipped off to Sodor, soon. Besides, I'm sure you fail to realise she's out of your league!' he said.  
'What do you mean?' Diesel asked. He stopped short when he realised Young Sexybuffers was giving Peter Fonda, who was delivering some iron to the carriage works 'the eye'. All women were attracted to Peter Fonda, for reasons which you seriously need to read the fourth series for, but word around the carriage works was that these two had a 'thing' going on between them. And, about the iron, well, put it one way: the Thin Git lost a lot of money on the gaming tables to a certain Wee Bastard. No wonder the Scarface railway was quickly becoming more popular: their coaches were of better quality than the Thin Git's rake (no, not a garden rake, a train of coaches that look alike. Do some railway research, you cretin!) of sticky-tape and blu-tack built coaches.  
'Anyway,' said the manager, 'move it, you twonks! I've got trucks for you to take away and load up. We need more blu-tack and sticky-tape, pronto!'

But when the two diesels had rumbled out of sight with the trucks, Pip and Emma emerged from the works, which was, in their case, conveniently close to the carriage works. They weren't pleased about having another engine be taken advantage of by Diesel and the other engines. They knew full well that the others would take any opportunity to 'get to know' Young Sexybuffers, and weren't about to let her fall prone to them. So they rolled up beside her, and whispered something to her.

Meanwhile, Bowler was out on the main line, racing along. Anything to put as much distance between him and Derek's Dump as possible. 'This is the life!' he beamed.  
But Bowler had been too cleanliness-obsessed (like THAT'S anything new!) for the coaches. They were quite fond of how they looked, even if they were poorly-built.  
As the train. rumbled along, the brake coach whispered something to her guard, who readily agreed. Both were fed up of Bowler, and wanted to pay him out, so the guard wrote something on one of his beer bottles he kept in his end of the coach, slipped a fiver in with it, and threw it at the nearest signal box. The signalman swore after them, read the letter, took the fiver, and 'accidentally' changed the points for Bowler to travel along a different line - through a disused tunnel, covered in cobwebs.

When Diesel and Bowler arrived at the Big Fat station, they could only laugh. Bowler sat at the platform begging the lady at the flower stand to cover him in flowers (Yep, I've suddenly changed his character, just like HiT Entertainment sometimes does to other characters. Also, as it happens, Bowler finds flowers 0.001% tolerable more than anything that would get him dirty, so he would definitely prefer flowers covering him rather than anything else. At least they SMELL clean!) 'You said the mainline run blew the cobwebs out of you, jerk,' laughed Diesel, 'but I didn't think you meant it in this way!'  
'Shut up!' retorted the cobweb-but-sadly-not-flower-covered Bowler (the flower lady didn't have enough flowers, and hadn't forgiven Bowler for thinking her sunflowers were large patches of where paint should be on walls, and persuaded a workman to throw paint all over them - covering the whole stall, including her, in yellow paint, and decided to give him the finger instead), 'It's the stupid coaches' fault, not mine!'  
'It's safe to go, now!' called a slightly-drunken workman. 'You're blocking the line anyway, you lazy geniuses!'  
Diesel and Bowler rumbled by, but now they were confused by the workman. That was hardly much of a proper insult, by their standards. It was practically half a compliment!

Later, Diesel and Spamcan were being refuelled at the depot, when they heard a noise. 'What's all the commotion?' Diesel asked. 'The alarm bells in the signal box have never rung this loudly before.'  
'Someone must have finally got off their arse and actually repaired them. Anyway, there's a runaway passenger train full of drunken football fans on our line. We'd better run for it, pronto! Come on!' his driver replied, jumping into his cab.  
The two engines managed to run away from the coaches, with Spamcan being switched on to Diesel's line, and ending up behind Diesel (Diesel swore at both him and the signalman for almost derailing him') but they had a freakishly huge problem. 'We're going downhill!' cried the driver. 'I'll just have to jump clear. You deal with this yourself!'  
Then Diesel had an idea. 'Why don't you put our brakes on, and slow us down to stop them? We've also had our sandboxes refilled along with our tanks. You call yourself a driver, and you didn't notice?'  
Their drivers wasted no time in putting the brakes on. 'You're very rude and suicidal engines,' said Diesel's driver, 'but I hope this works!'  
It did.  
'I take that back! You're very clever engines!'

Soon, the train slowed down enough for the idiot passengers who caused the runaway to jump out and run away before the police could catch them (alcohol, football fans and carriage couplings are a VERY bad mix), but the siding where the train had been diverted to was full of bits of broken coaches.  
'We'll need to find a replacement passenger train, pronto!' said a workman. 'The passengers can't travel in trucks. We'd all be lynched by them if they did!' Then Diesel and Spamcan had an idea.  
'What about Young Sexybuffers? She would be a great substitute for at least one of these coaches!' suggested Spamcan.  
'Comfy, too, well for the men' added Diesel.  
They telephoned the Thin Git. 'She'll be ready for 'anything' by the time you arrive' he said, and thought to himself, 'Up yours, Sodor!'

When Diesel and Spamcan arrived, they were surprised. There was Young Sexybuffers, with graffiti all over her, smashed windows, and no wheels on her chassis. 'I can't hate you bastards enough!' She raged. 'Pip and Emma told me about you two. I decided being a drug den was better than being on the same railway as you, so I asked the workmen to mess me up, and Sam the Spliff brought me, instead. I wanted love, not sex, and I won't be taken advantage of by anyone any more!'  
Diesel and Spamcan were shocked. Even more so when Sam the Spliff and the Thin Git emerged from the office, both covered in bruises and black eyes. The Thin Git looked menacingly at the two engines, and they rumbled away _very_ quickly.

Everyone agreed that there was nothing Young or Sexy about Buffers, and she has willingly made sure that she will always be really useless indeed.

 _ **Derek and Stuck-Up**_

Based on _Edward's Day Out_ and _Edward and Gordon_ by the Rev. W. Awdry

One day, Derek was in the shed, where he lived with the other engines (Yes, I know that you know that line by now, but it worked with that TV show, didn't it?). They were all in better condition than Derek, and boasted about it.  
'The driver must be nuts to choose you again!' Old Stuck-Up said. 'He wants big, strong and smexy engines like us. Well, anyone would, especially compared to a detonator!'  
Derek hadn't had a chance to say anything in his defence, and he began to feel sad. His driver didn't really care much, either, but wanted to get away from Stuck-Up. That boasting would drive anyone mad! 'Come on! We'd better get out before he goes on anymore' he said. So he turned on the motor, made nauseous fumes, and Derek rumbled away.

The others were very cross at being left behind. It was probably because the fumes blinded Diesel as he was rolling forward, and crashed into the turntable well, trapping everyone who wanted to escape Derek's deadly fumes (Seriously. The Thin Git gets death threats from environmentalists for having Derek on his fleet).

Away went Derek to fetch some coaches, knocking out several signalmen and the Thin Git along the way - but perhaps they had been knocked out by the cocaine they had sniffed behind the signal box, instead...

'Be careful, Derek!' said the coaches (who found Derek 0.000000001 per cent more tolerable than the others - he always tried to be nice to them). 'Don't blow up in our faces, like you usually do!'  
BANG!  
Derek overheated. Again.  
'Fuck you, Derek!' said the coaches. 'That was bloody typical! We are pissed off you have to take us out today! You mess up our paint with your overheating!'

They brought the coaches to the platform, and waited for the guard to blow his whistle, and waited, and waited, and waited, and yadayadayada. Jesus, can this be any more clearer? It's like some writers think an audience should only be made up of children! Anyway, the driver got so bored and fed up of reading his copy of MAYFAIR magazine, so he finally asked the stationmaster 'Have you seen the guard? He's only made us an hour late!'  
'Yes' replied the stationmaster, 'with your mum! Now, where's that tanner you owe me from last night?'  
After he knocked the stationmaster out, the driver asked the porter 'have you seen that lazy guard?'  
'Yes,' said the porter, 'behind the station building for some cannabis, last night.'  
'What bloody use is that to us?' exclaimed the driver.  
'You asked, Dimwit!' retorted the porter.  
'Honk honk!' hooted Derek, 'are we ever going to start? The Thin Git only tolerates me, because he knows I try hard, but late guards don't bally well help me keep my job here!'  
Suddenly, a young chav shouted 'Wotcher! 'Ere he comes!' The driver looked up from strangling the porter, and there was the guard running drunkenly down the hill with his flags in one hand, and several crates of Heineken's in the other, accompanied by some loud sirens in the distance. He bumped into the door of the last coach, dropping his 'legally obtained' crates of beer, picked himself up, jumped into the coach, and gave the driver the finger, and Derek rumbled away.

Derek had an awful day. He overheated at all the stations (not helped by his being chased by the police the whole time!), met the other engines, most of whom, apart from Pip and Emma, shouted abuse at him, and he was so late that the driver promised to 'take him out' tomorrow.  
'I'm going out again tomorrow,' he told the other engines that night, 'what do you think of that?' But he didn't hear what they thought, for he was so tired, and so oblivious to the fact that his driver was threatening to knock him unconscious somehow, that he fell asleep at once.

Next morning, Derek woke up to find nothing had changed. Stuck-Up was still boasting, as if that was anything new.  
'You watch me, detonator Derek, as I rush through with the express. That'll make a splendid and educational sight for you, to show you how proper, well-built and smexy engines like me are so much better than you!' he said. Then his driver climbed into his cab, and he buggered off, accompanied by some loud BLEH!-ing. 'Goodbye, Derek! Look out for me this afternoon!'  
Derek rumbled off to do some shunting.  
Derek hated shunting. It was painful working with trucks. He had to go up to them and give them a bump. Then he would stop, and the trucks would take advantage of this to bump him back - harder. This may explain how his driver tried to live up to his threat, and knock him out. Derek suffered until there were no more trucks, then he stopped to recover.  
Presently he heard a horn. Old Stuck-Up rumbled past. Instead of hauling nice, shiny, albeit snobbish, coaches, he was hauling a lot of very dirty trucks. Bowler was supposed to take this train, but he "bribed" Diesel with £5000 to switch the trains over (He lied about having the money - probably would explain why he was in the workshops, after being beaten up, then pushed into several goods trains and, eventually, the sea by the time I wrote this crap). To make matters worse, the train in question was the Sewage train, and, to those of you who have actually bothered to read the original parodies, you should hopefully know (and if not, where's your brain?) that Stuck-Up hates that train!  
'A sewage train! A sewage train!' He moaned like a pompous two-year old. 'The smell of it, the smell of it, oh, the smell of it!'  
Derek tried to laugh, but vomited from the smell. He tidied his mess up, and went on shunting. Presently the Signalman skulked up. 'Spamcan fainted from the smell, and can't get up the hill. Can you take Derek and push him please?' He said.  
'Oh, God, get someone else to do it, I wanna carry on reading NUTS' said the driver. 'And what's with the please? Are you…?'  
'Look, I'm not Mr Bloody Humphries, if that's what you're asking' the Signalman snapped. 'Just get your fat arses over there, unless you want the Thin Git to transfer you to Sodor!'

They found Stuck-Up halfway up the hill, and very faint. His driver and fitter were wafting £1 million notes under his nose, and taking the piss out of him. 'You're not trying' they jeered.  
'I can't do it' he said. 'The smelly trucks knock a smexy engine out so. If they were coaches, nice CLEAN things that don't make you sick, now that would be different.'  
Derek's driver came up. 'We've come to help' he said.  
'Worse and worse!' said Stuck-Up. 'Derek the Detonator's bound to explode and send this poo flying!'  
'You wait and see!' replied Derek's driver, despite suspecting that Stuck-Up was somehow psychic.  
So they brought the train back to the bottom of the hill. 'I'm going to throw up!' cried Derek.  
'Oh joy!' grumbled Stuck-Up.

Derek huffed and puffed.  
He heaved and he roared.  
And when this rhyme stops,  
I swear I'll be bald!

'I can't do it! I can't do it! I can't do it!' grumbled Stuck-Up.  
'I will do it! I will do it! I will do it!' said Derek. 'I will…BBBBLLLLLLEEEEEEEEUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!'  
And almost before he realised it, Stuck-Up found himself at the top of his hill, and running for his life. 'I've done it! I've done it!' the self-important bugger cheered to himself. He totally ignored Derek, and didn't bother to say 'thank you'. He wanted to get as far away from the vomit-covered Class 17 and the shipload of sick as was humanly possible. He ran on so fast, he passed two stations before he could stop. Shows how much the Thin Git cares about how much he spends on the engines' braking power, doesn't it?

Derek was out of vomit, and far behind. He overheated instead, and then he found his driver and Stuck-Up's now-abandoned fitter were very 'pleased' at having vomit thrown in their faces by him. The fitter gave him a torturous, long beating, and the driver said 'I'll get out my boxing glove, and give you an imaginative new coat of purple with black eyes. Then you'll be the most fuck-ugly engine in the shed!'

Author's note:

I really was serious when I said I don't own the other railway. All rights go to both HiT entertainment, the Awdry family and to ProfessorVengeance. This work was merely in appreciation of their genius.


End file.
